The Off-Broadway Theatre Review: The Public Theater’s Sumo
By Ross
Drums, manned from above the ring, summon those willing to step forward into the circle with pride and purpose. This is the sacred world of the Sumo and, deep inside this play, the complex intricacies of the sport itself are laid out in detail before us. The visual of these six men, ambitiously wrestling against each other for a chance at greatness and survival, is a compelling and unique formula, powerfully embodied and presented within this fascinating world and play, written with a strong intent by playwright Lisa Sanaye Dring (Kairos). Directed solidly by Ralph B. Peña (Ma-Yi Theater’s Vancouver), the imagery of the rikishi, or sumo wrestler, is one we don’t really see on the stage too often, but here at The Public Theater in downtown NYC, the sport and the sacred ritual are unpacked for us in a stance most mythological.
Sumo, Japan’s national sport and a sacred Shinto ritual, is where the play places its centralized core, guided us in by the framings delivered with determination by three Kannushis (Paco Tolson, Kris Bona, and Viet Vo). The three station themselves around the stage and the ring to help us develop our sense of the religious context and the rules and origins of this sport. It’s quite a compelling opening, as the play offers up a fascinating vantage point to slam down our symbolic bodies into the culture mat, giving us a young protagonist, Akio, played in earnest by Scott Keiji Takeda (“No No Girl“), to align ourselves with emotionally. He’s a young apprentice, trying to gain acceptance into this traditional clan of wrestlers. At first, we find ourselves somewhere on the sidelines, looking in at his sweeping desperation, but as the play drives forward, slowly and with its own drum-beat rhythm, we never really find ourselves connecting with the young, overly ambitious boy. He remains just out of reach, somewhat arrogant and self-centered, complaining always as he pushes on all the edges of the circle, impatiently wanting more, without having any understanding of the road he is supposed to travel on to get to this lofty place.
Through his eyes, the play attempts to slide back the door on the many facets of Sumo, putting forth numerous supportive characters that tenderly engage in compassionate connection with one another. They are an entwined team of players in an ambitious saga that is larger and more meaningful to the whole. Yet, Akio doesn’t seem to quite understand his place in the pyramid, constantly striving for a larger and higher position in the ranking. The highest-ranking of Yokozuna is the stern Mitsuo, played forcefully by David Shih (Broadway’s Life of Pi). He stands upright and stern, holding an exalted space in the room and playing the role with a hardened paternal stance that borders on scalding abuse. With corporate symbols adorning his traditional garb, the man pushes the young man like a cruel general shoving down an ambitious and impatient young soldier, thinking that this way of teaching will toughen him up. This angle would have had a greater impact had we had a more empathetic connection to the whiny Akio, but as portrayed, we feel for his journey. But over time, we begin to lose faith in the process and in the young man.
The circular playing field, dynamically designed by Wilson Chin (Broadway’s Pass Over), with determined lighting by Paul Whitaker (Primary Stage’s Little Women), a solid sound design and music by Fabian Obispo (Public’s Sea Wall/A Life), and backed by an incredibly detailed projection design by Hana S. Kim (Broadway’s Summer, 1976), stands the test of timely strength and endurance, giving space and meaning to the energy that plays out in the battles presented. Costumed strongly by Mariko Ohigashi (Public’s Out of Time) with detailed hair, wig, and makeup by Alberto “Albee” Alvarado (Broadway’s The Outsiders), Sumo delivers this slow-burning piece of fascinating construction with some stellar background performances that connect in ways the two leads fail to do.
Ahmad Kamal (STC’s Richard III) as the solid big-brother type rikishi, Ren, finds his peaceful form, calmly and compassionately inside a strong, formidable fighter. He bends the rules in order to help the somewhat selfish Akio. He helps when no one else will, but it’s also the way he embraces his unacceptable love for another rikishi, Fumio, played uncomfortably well by Red Concepción (Broadway’s Chicago). In that formulation, Kamal’s Ren is the most powerful one of the group, seeing what is of importance and bravely asking for it against all the odds that stand tall around him. Fumio, on the other hand, struggles on almost every level; refusing to engage with his true nature and to win matches on his own accord. It’s the most captivating drama that is played out on that stage, and in a way, should be the focal point, mainly because it’s the far more interesting and well-structured conflict on that stage.
Michael Hisamoto (Lyric Stage’s Hold These Truths) as the more self-aware So sits almost goofily on the sidelines, knowing his place in the order of things, whereas the hulking Earl T. Kim (“Ghost of Tsushima“) as Shinta drops all to discover where life truly exists for him, and where the importance of self lies. All of their conflictual complications are more heartfelt than almost anything else in this slow exploration of masculinity over humility and care. The development of the ideas and the framing is all there, but the drive and force to keep us fully engaged is one battle that is lost. Mainly because we are forced to watch a central story that we have a difficult time caring about. Yet, we stay tuned in to The Public Theater‘s new play Sumo, barely, floating above the ring watching the trained animals engage, but not exactly sure why we are cheering for the central character to understand the difference between ambition and humility, and the strong desire to win.
